Danger
by Mazeem
Summary: The Danger Room malfunctions, with severe consequences for Storm's future. Never before had her claustrophobia had such a devastating effect. StormxRogue friendship, RougexGambit.
1. Chapter 1

Just an idea that I had that combined my three favourite characters, Storm, Rogue and Jubilee, with one of my favourite suplots, Storm's claustrophobia. Not that Jubilee does anything. xD

Hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

Rogue's hands flickered over the Danger Room controls, entering in her own details and that of the woman beside her. This brought up a number of preset options.

"We want our enemies toasted, roasted, or deep-fried, Storm?" she asked cheerfully. Storm pulled a fakely thoughtful face.

"I believe we shall try them roasted."

Chuckling, Rogue tapped the first of the options on the screen. It made very little difference, merely making their chance of facing various types of opponents (in this case, those with ranged weapons) a little less than random. She had already rotated the difficulty dial to merely medium. The real point of the inputted data was to verify that both of them were going inside, and therefore control over the Danger Room should something go amiss would automatically reroute to the nearest available X-Man.

"Remote control: Hank McCoy" flashed up on the screen. Storm leaned over and clicked on the square icon underneath the message, activating a live link to the infirmary. Beast's face wobbled into view, and he gave them both a broad grin.

"Control accepted, ladies. I trust you'll have an exciting and worthwhile exercise."

"As do we," Storm replied. Her eyes narrowed slightly and she craned her neck as if looking for someone or something. "How is Jubilee?"

"I'm _fine_! He's just fussing!" shouted Jubilee from off-camera, her voice a mixture of frustration, resignation, and a little bit of humour that she would strenuously deny.

"A concussion is certainly something to fuss over," Storm reproached.

"That'll teach ya not to skateboard indoors," Rogue added teasingly. Jubilee huffed audibly, and both women smiled. "Hank, we're ready to rock and roll; as soon as I remember how to open these darn doors ..." Rogue trailed off and stared at the buttons for a second. Beast told her and gave them a thumbs-up sign.

"Farewell."

The doors opened slowly. Those in such a frame of mind could have even described it as _ominously_. Storm wasn't aware that she had shuddered, only that suddenly Rogue was looking at her with a measure of concern.

"You sure you're up for this, gal?"

"Quite sure," Storm replied, more coldly than she had intended. Persistent as ever, Rogue continued;

"'Cause, you know, wouldn't be surprised if the room's had enough of ya by now." It was said in a carefully joking tone, and Storm gave it the required wry twist of her lips in reply.

"Perhaps."

For the past week, she and the Professor had programmed the Danger Room to enclose her in smaller and smaller spaces, on a carefully graduated scale. The purpose of the exercise was two-fold; it demonstrated quantitatively which levels of containment adversely affected her performance and to what extent, and by repeating the exposure so frequently it aimed to deaden her claustrophobic sensitivity to, eventually, something that she could function one hundred percent alongside.

The Professor was pleased so far, but had warned Storm to take a few day's break. The constant fear was more draining than either of them had anticipated. So yesterday and the day before that, she had done nothing: lazed around; gone shopping; stayed at base with Jubilee when the rest of the team went out to answer the distress call of three mutants cornered by thugs from the Friends Of Humanity. Today, as a result, she had been bored and restless, and eagerly volunteered when Rogue wondered who was up for a "quick rough-'n'-tumble with Danger."

"_I_ have not had enough of _it_," she said fiercely, and stepped into the room.

"Yeah, that's kinda obvious," she heard Rogue mumble as she matched her step forwards. Side by side, they stood and waited with tense muscles and razored reflexes for the opposition to appear.

"Initiating Rouge and Storm training program."

_Ssshick!_

Twin lasers hit the closed door where their chests would have been had they not heard the warning click and, in unison, taken to the air.

"There!" Storm, pointed out the wall-mounted weapons, dodging another blast. "I will take the left, you take the right!"

"Consider it done," Rogue called as she dropped back to the floor and ran towards the gun. It was more difficult to dodge on the ground, and Storm winced as a beam smacked Rogue high on her thigh and sent her spinning away.

"Rogue!"

"I'm fine, sugar," Rogue panted as she rolled to her feet again. "They couldn't keep me down if they tried." She ran at it again, reached it without incident and without so much as tensing, ripped it from the wall and snapped it over her knee. "One down. You got yours?"

"Yes." Narrowly avoiding a shot to her shoulder, Storm sent an icy blast at 'her' gun. It froze it into useless immobility.

"That's not gonna defrost on us, is it?" Rogue called suspiciously.

"I doubt it."

Both women stilled and concentrated again, waiting for the new threat. This time it was Storm who wasn't fast enough; a sharp-edged metal projectile glanced off her rib. Using the stab of adrenalin from the pain, she spun in mid-air and blasted it with a lightning bolt. It was not destroyed as she expected, merely knocked off course. It careered into the wall and came back at an oblique angle, heading straight for Rogue. Contemptuously, Rogue rose a few feet in the air. The projectile hit the wall again, and on its return was wobbling furiously. Storm dashed it viciously into the floor with a gust of wind, which finished it off.

There was a sound like a disturbed snake; suddenly six lasers were dancing around the room and three sharp bits of metal were flailing at the walls.

"Room thought we weren't having enough_ fun_!" Rogue said sarcastically as she used the remains of the first wall-gun to batter the metal dics inches deep into the walls. A laser beam hit her collarbone and she stumbled momentarily, her head jerking up.

She stared at the ceiling in disbelief.

Storm had different weather conditions coming from each hand; hail from one and lightning from another. Two guns gave up the fight, though not before one of them had singed her hair and another had ripped a shallow wound in her neck. She was distracted from blasting the next two into fragments when she heard Rogue yell;

"What in _tarnation_?, I _know_ I didn't program this!"

Icy intuition made her look up.

The ceiling was descending with all the ponderous invulnerability of a glacier. Familiar panic closed its claws around her neck, but she shook herself free of its paralysis and swooped to the floor. Rogue met her there, and handed her some metal discs that she had pried out of the wall to protect their heads and chests against the lasers while they thought really, really quickly about their next course of action.

"Can you hold it?"

Rogue shook her head. "Dunno. Couldn't last time." She squinted up at the ceiling. "I'd need something to brace 'gainst, at least, and that means waitin' 'til it's at head height."

Storm tried to push the fear to the back of her mind, just like she had been practising in conditions so like these. "It must be a fault in the programming somewhere. The Professor will need to be informed."

"Yeah." Rogue turned to her with a grin that didn't even looked forced and said, "There's one good thing 'bout this - it's cutting off the guns." She pointed. Storm followed her line of sight and saw that, yes the ceiling had lowered to a point beyond the guns. However she also saw that it was now less than a metre above their heads. More to keep herself busy than out of any real hope it would do something, she raised her hand and began to layer the ceiling with ice.

It _did_ do something. It came faster.

"Gotcha!" The ceiling touched Rogue's upturned palms, and she spread her legs into a more stable stance. There was an awful crunching sound from the wall, and Rogue's biceps momentarily bulged. "Yeah," she continued breathlessly, "I got it. It's heavy, but nothin' I can't handle."

"What now?" Storm was alarmed to hear the edge in her voice. Keep control, she scolded firmly. It's all in your head.

"Beats me. Wait and see."

Storm watched and the parts of her brain that weren't frozen and burnt with onroaching panic were filled with admiration for Rogue's strength. She began to pace, and the fact that she had the space to do so helped to calm her more than the movement itself. A plan formed in her mind. Her mind tried to kick it back out again as too risky - too terrifying. Her nails dug into her fists as she tried to gain control over herself.

"Hon, you might not wanna walk too much," Rogue said in an uneasy voice. Storm looked up from her position over half the room away from Rogue, to see the ceiling busily creating a crack down the middle. Even as she watched, there was another horrible crunching sound and the half hovering above her began to descend.

She screamed. Well, she didn't remember screaming and it didn't sound like her, but she didn't think it was Rogue.

"I got it, I got it," Rogue gabbled, racing over to her and catching hold of the ceiling again. "You'd better stay close."

It was sinfully proud, but something in Storm rose up in protest at that. To be reduced to cowering helplessly next to a team-mate, unable to do anything, seemed in that moment worse than the smallest of spaces. Before her mind could change, she outlined her plan to Rogue.

"Are you _crazy_, gal?" Rogue stared at her with wide eyes. Storm shook her head, and carefully, determinedly, stepped back into the half of the room unprotected by Rogue.

Her plan wasn't really a plan, as she saw it, more like the only option. She rationalised it as she walked away, pushing the shivers out of her voice. They settled instead in her arms and legs.

"For some reason, this isn't activating Beast's alarm - it clearly won't do until one of us believes she is in mortal danger, as that should activate the last-resort shutdown the Professor added this week." She swallowed hard. It tasted sour. "Unless you have another option?"

"No," Rogue's voice was heavy. "B-but, I can't just _let_ you - "

"You can if you want to get out!" Storm snapped. "This is the only way." She had to hunch over, the ceiling a weight on the top of her head even then and sinking fast. She was shaking so violently that walking was difficult. "The quicker, the better," she mumbled, and deliberately removed a layer of self-control.

Rogue nearly dropped her side of the ceiling in shock as Storm released a shockwave of hail and wind upwards. The ceiling above her froze for a mere second, then positively flew downwards. Storm was forced to her knees. The keening scream she was making without seeming to realise hurt Rogue's ears almost as much as her conscience.

_I shouldn't be doing this. This is _awful_. I should be breaking my bones trying to punch a hole through the wall rather than just sitting here and _watching _this._

Storm was curled into a foetal position now. The ceiling was mere inches above her. As Rogue lowered her arms to run to her, Storm's control finally fled, and fear intense enough to crack sanity seized her powers.

It was Rogue's turn now to scream without knowing it as a funnel of wind whirled up from Storm's body. It tore straight through the ceiling, but the gap that appeared as a result grew no wider. Still the ceiling descended around the tornado as if it was nothing more than a greased pole.

"Storm!" Rogue yelled. Even as she shouted, the funnel exploded outwards, filling the entire room and throwing her back against the far wall with a painful, jarring thud. "_Storm_!" A sudden gap opened in the winds; seizing her chance she raced forwards and landed with a thump in the eye of the storm. She dropped flat onto her stomach and wriggled rapidly forwards on her elbows and knees. There was so little space left that even she was beginning to feel oppressed. Reaching out, she put a hand on Storm's trembling shoulder -

"_Get back_!" Storm screeched, raising crazed white eyes. The tornado doubled in ferocity and the Danger Room finally relinquished the power supply. The guns and discs vanished, and the illusion shattered, revealing the tattered remains of the physical roof. The clear blue sky above poured incongruous sunshine into the room.

All Rogue saw was Storm throw a lightning bolt square at her chest.

A loud screeching noise woke Jubilee from her doze. She sat up, holding her throbbing head in one hand.

"Beast, what is it?" she demanded, looking around dizzily. A glimpse of blue passing through the doorway was followed by a fading reply,

"The Danger Room alarm! Highest level!"

"What?" Jubilee leapt out of bed. Her head reeled and she staggered, but she regained her balance through sheer stubbornness and hurried after him.

What she saw when she arrived at the Danger Room made her legs give out completely.

There was no roof left, only a few jagged edges here and there. Rubble littered the room. Storm lay to one side, curled up tightly even in unconsciousness. Her X-Men uniform that she had been wearing when Jubilee had last seen her on the infirmary room screen was gone and instead she wore ordinary grey trousers and a pink blouse. Rogue lay next to her. Her green and yellow uniform was torn in a small ragged hole with burnt edges, exposing part of her breast. Beast was bent over Rogue with the closest expression to panic she had ever seen on his face.

"What happened?" Jubilee called, using the wall to shove herself to her feet. Beast gave her a brief glance, then returned to staring at Rogue and looking panicked. Jubilee didn't exactly understand what the problem was until Beast took off Rogue's right glove, taking infinite care not to touch her bare skin, and laid it carefully over her mouth so that the fingers covered her lips. Then he removed his white jacket and placed it over her bared chest.

_Then_ it made terrible sense. Rogue's heart wasn't beating and she needed CPR to save her life, but Beast hadn't been able to risk giving her mouth to mouth, or even the compressions, until he had worked out how to protect himself.

All X-Men were taught extensive first aid, even Jubilee, so she found herself unconsciously counting along with Beast's compressions and breaths. Thirty to two. One-two-three, one-two-three ...

She walked closer, and saw that Storm was stirring slightly. Quickly, she made her way to her side and sat down. Crouching or even kneeling felt too unsteady at the moment.

"Sssh," she soothed as Storm moaned and mumbled something utterly incoherent. "It's ok, Storm." As best she could, she checked her for injuries. Sticky blood coated her neck, but a tentative prod showed Jubilee that it came from nothing more than a deep scratch. Blood oozed through the blouse at a point just below her heart. Nervously, using her fingertips, Jubilee lifted the linen blouse up and looked at the cut there. The sudden white flash of a rib bone was disturbing, but, to Jubilee's eyes at least, didn't look serious. So, nothing that would explain her current state. It took a whole lot more than scratches to knock out Storm.

"_There_ we are, Rogue," Beast sounded relieved. "Well done, my dear."

Jubilee breathed a sigh of relief as well, and stared at the fluffy white clouds in the sky above.

"What _happened_?" she asked again, this time to herself. The sickness tightening her stomach wasn't just the concussion.

"That, Jubilee, is an excellent question." Beast stood with Rogue flopping in his arms. "I need to defibrillate Rogue immediately. Can you stay with Storm until I return?"

"Yes, of course!"

Storm only stirred once in the time before Beast returned, and that was to briefly grab hold of Jubilee's hand. It was such an un-Storm-like thing to do that it made Jubilee worry all the more.

However, upon examination, Beast discovered nothing worse than profound exhaustion and the flesh wounds that Jubilee had identified.

"I suspect her claustrophobia played a part in this," he mused. Jubilee swung her legs back and forth on the bed Beast had demanded she return to.

"But I thought her and the Professor were trying to sort that out," she protested. Beast nodded sadly.

"Yes, and in the long-term it may manage to do so. In the short-term, however, I fear that it merely made her even more susceptible."

"And what do you think happened to Rogue?"

Beast shrugged.

"I wish I knew."

* * *

I have two more chapters already written, but obviously this isn't a very popular fandom, so I'll wait and see what response this gets before uploading any more.

Thanks for reading!

xMhax


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you very much to** Stormkpr**, **A Lake Elohcin**, rasa and shad for reviewing, and to everyone who has faved and alerted it. Second chapter's up!

* * *

Storm awoke with a pure cold splash of fear soaking every inch of her body. She scrabbled at the heavy thing covering her, and struggled when someone took hold of her hands firmly.

"Storm, this is Beast," his deep voice told her gently. "You are out of the Danger Room."

"T-the ceiling!" She forced the words past the pain in her throat - couldn't he see it falling and pressing and squeezing all around her?

"The ceiling is exactly where a ceiling should be, my dear, and shows no signs of moving. Look." She felt her hands being lifted and moved around. "There is space all around you, enough space for someone twice your height."

She opened her eyes with difficulty and squinted around. The infirmary. Beast was right. Relief went a long way to calming her down.

"I did it," she whispered.

"What did you do?"

She tried to tell him, but sleep wrapped her in cotton wool and floated her away.

* * *

Beast had gone to contact the Professor, who was visiting Moira in Muir Island, when Rogue began to come round. So it was up to Jubilee to run over to Rogue and try to stop her removing her oxygen mask. This was made infinitely more difficult by the fact that she still wasn't wearing her right glove. Swallowing down her nerves, Jubilee leant in and said as clearly as she could,

"Rogue, hi, um, this is Jubilee. Please, don't move your right arm. Not at all. That's _this_ one," she tapped the corresponding shoulder quickly, "because you don't have a glove on and I'll just be more problems for Beast if you absorb my powers and knock me out, ok? _Please_?"

Rogue must have heard her, for she only reached up for the irritating gas mask with her left hand. Jubilee took hold of that one and gently put it back by her side. "And don't fiddle with that. It's oxygen. It's good for you." Rogue mumbled something in response. It sounded a bit like "Storm". "She's fine," Jubilee ventured. "Beast had to clean up a couple of scratches, but that was it. She's asleep, but she already woke up a bit, and she knows she's safe now."

More breathless mumbling.

"You shouldn't try and talk, Rogue. Wait until you're stronger, then you can tell Beast or the Professor all about it." She lifted up the bedcover - it had slid down when Rogue fidgeted. Beast had used the hole in her uniform as a starting point to rip it open down to the sixth rib, creating the required space to apply the defibrillators diagonally either side of her heart. As a result, her left breast was exposed, stained red and white by a blistered burn over the heart. It looked a little like a popped balloon - the droll appearance belying the fact that it was both very dangerous and potentially very embarrassing for Rogue to have that much skin uncovered. Two very good reasons for Jubilee to avert her eyes and carefully cover her up again.

With Rogue drifting back into sleep - or unconsciousness, she didn't know the difference - Jubilee felt that it was safe enough for her to return to bed. Her head was absolutely killing her!

"Have you talked to any of the others?" she asked drowsily when Beast returned.

"Yes; Gambit, is on his way as we speak. I asked Scott and Jean if they would so kind as to detour the Blackbird to pick up the Professor. I trust Scott will fly as fast possible, so travelling at approximately Mach 4 they should be back here in about four hours."

"What about Wolverine?"

Beast raised both hands in a defeated fashion. "As ever, Logan is a law unto himself."

* * *

Jubilee's attempts at sleep were helped mightily when Beast, despite her continued assertions of perfect health, gave her a sedative. She slept happily and deeply, but only for an hour, as she was woken abruptly by the sound of slamming doors and running footsteps and a familiar voice.

"_Mon dieu_! Rogue!"

She opened her eyes to see Gambit hurrying from the doorway to Rogue's bed. Rogue opened her eyes and turned towards him immediately. Their outstretched hands had very nearly touched before Gambit noticed her lack of a glove and snatched his hand back just in time. That seemed to jolt Rogue into normality, because she pulled her hand away as well and whispered mockingly,

"Calm down, tiger. Anyone would think you were _worried_ about me."

"Heh. Me? Worried?" Gambit replied flippantly, but he couldn't take his eyes off Rogue and she was returning the favour. As usual, Jubilee found herself wondering why no-one had just locked those two in a room together and waited. Probably because it was more likely to result in Gambit being murdered with any spare furniture than anything constructively romantic.

"How's Storm?" Rogue rasped. Gambit spun around and looked at Storm, seeing her apparently for the first time.

"Storm?" he said disbelievingly. Jubilee edged her way into his peripheral vision and waved. He turned to her, looking stunned. "You too?" Jubilee nodded and suddenly, _stupidly_, she felt her eyes beginning to sting with tears. Looking relieved to be doing something that he understood, Gambit strode over to her and hugged her tightly. "Come now, _ma_ _petite_, Remy's here now. What was this, three lovely ladies fightin' over Gambit's attentions?"

Jubilee gave a watery chuckle.

"No, Gambit, it was a malfunction in the Danger Room. Which I would have told you when I let you in, if you hadn't dashed off like that." Beast looked peeved as he entered the infirmary. Gambit shook his head.

"You tellin' me _Jubilee_ was in there?" he demanded. Jubilee shook her head and moved away from the lessening hug.

"No, just Rogue and Storm. I ..." She felt her face turning red. "I was skateboarding indoors and it went a bit wrong and I knocked myself out."

Gambit made a very bad attempt to hide his grin.

"Still say it serves you right, sugar," Rogue said with the beginnings of a return to her usual spirit.

"Yeah, well." Jubilee stared at the bedclothes and turned even redder. Gambit still seemed agitated; she could see him quickly snapping his fingers one by one.

"So you saying Stormy went in there? Even after all the stuff her and Xavier's been doin'?"

"She was determined," Rogue cut in hoarsely before Beast could answer. There was a sudden rustle of bedclothes, and Storm said coldly,

"_She _can speak for herself."

Jubilee had the oddest sensation that every single person in the room had just tried to simultaneously move towards and _away_ from Storm. The icy voice reminded her of the many times Storm had scolded her for transgressions. It was the tone she tended to use before frying or otherwise utterly obliterating an opponent. It was Storm's 'imperious goddess' voice, her _angry_ voice and it struck a deep-buried '_bad_-monkey' nerve in every listener.

But then there was the step forwards; the fact that claustrophobic trauma invariably left Storm scared and jumpy and tired. Whatever had happened in the Danger Room had forced a reaction from Storm unlike anything Jubilee had ever seen before, so she wasn't surprised to see that Storm looked as though her mind had been put through a paper shredder and stuffed back in the wrong order. She was pale and shaking all over, and it hurt to watch her desperately trying to piece it all back together to avoid embarrassment.

"You don't look so good, _cherie_," Gambit said softly.

"No worse than me," Rogue muttered, plucking feebly at the blood pressure monitor attached to her little finger.

"You always look good, _chere_," Gambit replied with a half-heartedly lecherous grin.

"Go boil your head, Cajun."

In the few seconds that it had taken Rogue and Gambit to have their familiar spat, Storm had somehow managed to stop the shaking.

"Thank you for your concern, Gambit," she said, and her voice still sounded like ice cracking underfoot.

There was an awkward silence. Then, in unison, Jubilee and Gambit demanded,

"What _happened_?"

Storm deflated. Rogue tensed.

"I'm inclined to wait until the Professor returns," Beast cautioned. He was hanging upside-down from the doorway. "The protocols that Charles recently imprinted into the Danger Room meant that it shouldn't have activated any sort of claustrophobic situation unless specifically programmed to by Charles himself. This feels like a very hazardous development."

Gambit looked around with the annoyed expression of someone who's last to catch on and knows it. "So _that _was what happened?"

"Yeah," Rogue answered. She struggled to sit up and intercepted Gambit's move to help with a fierce glare. The sheet slipped.

"_Chere_!" Gambit cried out, his eyes wide with something Jubilee had no name for. Rogue looked at him with confusion and a little contempt. Gambit lifted up the bedsheet and held it out to her helplessly.

Jubilee couldn't help but giggle. Rogue's expression began to darken.

"Your uniform is somewhat ... compromised, Rogue," Storm explained. Even on her wan face, a smile began to creep. "I believe that Gambit is torn between enjoying the view and saving your modesty."

"Damn it!" Rogue grabbed the sheet and wrapped it firmly around her shoulders, but not before she had pushed Gambit so hard that he flew across the room and hit the wall next to Jubilee's bed with a crunchy thud. "Keep ya thieving li'l eyes to yourself, swamp rat!" Her face was bright red.

"My apologies, Rogue, in all the excitement I-I must have forgotten to provide - " Beast stumbled over an apology.

"Yeah, you did, fuzzball!" She glared at him. "Gimme ma glove!"

"Of course." Beast threw it to her. She picked it up and slipped it back on with quivering fingers. "Do you mind if I set the cameras to record this discussion, for the Professor's benefit?" Beast asked cautiously, reaching up to the surveillance camera set above the doorway. No-one objected, not unless Rogue's dark glower counted.

"Right then," she began sourly, "let's get this shebang over and done with. What happened was - "

"The _c-ceiling_." It sounded like a proclamation of doom. The sheer effort of saying it had almost knocked Storm out again. As all eyes turned to her again, she closed her eyes and shivered and turned her head away from them all. Feeling just as bad as if she'd caught her crying, or naked, or _something_, Jubilee turned back to Rogue. It took Gambit coughing loudly and pointedly before Rogue could be distracted from staring helplessly at Storm.

"That," she confirmed at last. "We were at about ... what, stage three of the session?" Storm made a very faint, muffled sound of assent. "Stage three, when the ceiling started'a come down."

There was no sound or movement to draw her attention, but somehow Jubilee ended up looking at Storm again. Her eyes were screwed shut and her hands were bunched into fists.

"Honey, you shouldn't have t' hear this," Rogue said in a frustrated voice. Storm opened one eye and gave Rogue a sharp look. Resigned, Rogue continued. "So, the ceiling started to sink. Storm using her powers on it only made it sink faster, but that was ok 'cause that got it down to a level where I could grab a hold of it." She shut her eyes briefly, and Jubilee was reminded that although Rogue was a member of the X-Men with all the fitness that entailed and the constitution of an ox, and that right now anyone would look healthy compared to Storm, she was in fact only just back to full consciousness after suffering a _cardiac arrest_. Just as she was about to say something to that effect, Gambit caught her eye and shook his head.

"No point, _petite_," he murmured. "Decision already made, _oui_?" Jubilee understood and nodded reluctantly. Rogue looked at the pair with narrowed eyes before returning to dividing her attention between Beast and Storm, as she talked.

"Right, I have a hold of this chunk o' building, no problem. Problem is, the alarm ain't doing what it's supposed to - 'cause I know I didn't program a falling ceiling and yet suddenly the ceiling's falling and the room don't think nothing's _wrong_." Her face was flushed with remembered anxiety. "Storm comes up with the world's most foolhardy, downright stupid plan that I ever heard of in my whole life - "

"It _worked_," Storm whispered stubbornly, her frozen grimace softening to allow for a curled lip.

"Yeah, at what cost, hon?" When there was no answer, Rogue sighed loudly. "The plan was that she used her powers to make the ceiling come down and squish us both, trusting to the damn room to trigger the alarm _then_. Damn self-sacrificing streak. I wasn't happy, at all, but then the decision got taken away from me completely when the ceiling _split in half_ and the half I wasn't holdin' carried on down."

Jubilee wondered whether she had imagined that the wind outside had suddenly picked up in ferocity.

"Understandably, Storm loses her head when it gets low enough, and out comes enough of a tornado that _shoulda_ ripped the roof off. Sends me flying. Still, roof's showing no damage, and I'm scared that if I leave Storm over there she'll really be crushed."

"Was that how I hurt you?" Storm turned to face Rogue, her voice hoarse. Rogue put on a fake bravado.

"What makes ya think I'm hurt?"

"Because I can name exactly how we both got our wounds right up until ... what you're saying, and no bruise puts you in bed, Rogue, _or_ explains your uniform." Storm's voice was faintly reproachful. "So was that what I did to you? Battered you about with the winds?"

There was a terrible, deafening silence. It was broken by the unmistakable sound of rain pattering against the windows. Remembering the blue skies and white clouds of an hour ago, Jubilee urgently tried to catch Beast's or Gambit's eye.

"_Rogue_." It was part command, part plea. Rogue sighed again and passed a hand quickly over her eyes.

"Nah, it wasn't. I ran to reach you before the ceiling could cause damage. I grabbed onto you, and ya panicked."

"_What did I do_?" Storm's tone was terrible, made all the worse by the fatigue that could be clearly heard underlying it. Gambit moved closer to Rogue's bed.

"You got me with a lightning bolt straight in the chest," Rogue said finally. "I s'pose it musta stopped my heart, or else they wouldn't be there." She waved listlessly towards Jubilee's bed. Bending over made Jubilee's head feel as though it was overflowing with bruised blood, but she persevered.

Saw the defibrillators.

The rain was deafening now, pounding on the windows, and she could hear wind beginning to howl. As the colour drained anew from Storm's face, her eyes began to intermittently flash white.

"I _killed_ you." It was only the quietest cousin of a whisper, but in the thick silence of the infirmary it was loud and clear. Lightning suddenly blazed outside.

"_Storm!_" Jubilee found her voice mingling with Rogue's. Storm ignored them both, turning instead to Beast with fragile poise.

"I would like to be alone, Beast, if that can be arranged." Without waiting for a reply, she went on, "And I would imagine sedation would be - a wise idea." She gasped mid-sentence as her eyes seared white again and thunder crashed outside.

"Certainly for your own sake, if not for ours," Beast said quietly, dropping back to the ground and selecting a syringe from a rack on the wall next to Jubilee's bed. "Will the isolation room suit you, my dear?" Storm nodded and held out her arm for the needle. Beast injected her quickly and efficiently, then lobbed the used syringe neatly in the waste bin. With a murmured apology, he scooped her up in his arms and headed for the isolation room.

There was silence in the infirmary. The disturbed weather gradually faded, as elsewhere Storm slipped into sleep. Rogue huddled further under the bedcovers and shot blazing looks at Gambit for every step he tried to take towards her. Jubilee curled up in a ball under her own covers, and waited anxiously for the growing tension in the room to break. Even if it wasn't the only thing that got broken.

She still jumped when it happened.

"Why _me_?" Rogue demanded to the world at large, banging her fist on the mattress. "Why is it always, always _me_ who lets her down?"

"Huh?" Jubilee immediately hated herself for the inarticulate reply, but, seriously, what? "You haven't let her down, Rogue," she replied cautiously.

"Course I damn well have!" Rogue snarled, turning her teary eyes to Jubilee. "I shoudn'ta let her do her stupid plan! Hell, I shouldn'ta let her come in the danged Danger Room in the first place!"

"She made the decision, _chere_," Gambit told her firmly.

"Yeah, but that didn't mean I had t' go along with it!"

"Well, _I _wouldn't have fancied stopping her," Jubilee commented. It was a fairly transparent and flippant ploy to try and change Rogue's mindset but it was also the truth. Storm's mind was notoriously difficult to change once it was made up. "And what other time have you let her down, anyway?"

"Oh, I dunno, _kid_,"Rogue said viciously, "how about the time when I left her t' deal with a bunch of gun-toting freaks and they shot her full strength and she was in hospital for a _week_?"

"But -"

"Or the time when Magneto trapped me, her and Cyke in that chemical place and the wall fell on her and I couldn't stop it, and then I needed t' revive Cyclops so all I could do was pull her out-"

"But that was all you _needed _to do!" Jubilee shouted. She felt her face going red; she hadn't meant to be so loud. Just, she didn't want to see another person lose their grip today.

"_'tite'_s right, _chere_," Gambit risked injury by putting a hand on Rogue's squared shoulder. She shivered and didn't say anything. Exchanging a encouraged smile with Jubilee, Gambit continued, "Stormy's an X-Man. She don't need a babysitter. She'd be real angry if she knew you t'ought you needed t' protect her."

"Not _protect_," Rogue protested feebly, "just ..." She trailed off with a heartfelt sigh. "She's my _friend_, Remy!"

Gambit put his other hand on her other shoulder and squeezed. "Den dat's ok, _cherie_. You be friendly. Help her outside fights, if dat's what she wants. Like Xavier. And do that shopping t'ing you girls like. But she ain't your responsibility on the battlefield. Stormy ain't _no-one's_ responsiblity."

A shadow blocked the light coming through the infirmary door from the corridor, and a gruff voice said,

"Damn right she's not."

"Wolverine!" Jubilee cried. Swinging her legs around, she sat up on the edge of the bed. But, "Whoa," the movement woke her slumbering headache, which began pounding away gleefully. "Ow." She pushed her knuckles against her forehead in an attempt to fight back. "When did you get back? Where were you? Why didn't we hear you coming in?"

Wolverine looked at her in silence for several seconds, shifting the small bag he was carrying from one shoulder to the other and sniffing the air with loud inhalations.

"You got a helluva bruise coming up there, kiddo," he said with a slant of his lips that could have been a smile. Jubilee went red. Again.

"Yeah. Skateboarding," she mumbled.

"Ok." He seemed to immediately dismiss her. The smile fell from his face as he turned to look at Gambit and Rogue. "Either of you lovebirds fancy tellin' me why it smells like Storm's gone nuts and why Rogue smells fried?"

"No."

Gambit automatically let go of Rogue's shoulders as she wriggled around until her legs were on the floor. She drew the sheet tightly around herself. "No," she repeated. "Not again." Her eyes sparked with directionless anger. "Beast can tell ya." She got to her feet. Within a heartbeat, Gambit was hovering, poised to catch her when she stumbled. Which she did. With one arm looped around Gambit's shoulder and his arm tight around her waist, she looked at Wolverine with blazing eyes and said in a velvety voice, "Get outta my way, sugar."

Without a word, Wolverine drew aside and watched the pair as they stumbled past him.

"Watch it, Cajun," he muttered to Gambit. Jubilee's lipreading skills failed her for Wolverine's next words; they looked like 'She's a batship'. A bit of brain application decided on "She's in bad shape" instead.

"Oh, you t'ink so?" Gambit snapped - Jubilee only needed her ears for that! "Gambit is handling it, _mon ami!_" He waved one hand awkwardly behind his back and called, "We see you later, _petite_."

"Good luck," Jubilee called in reply, then immediately felt stupid._ Why _had she said that? Gambit didn't seem to mind though; he chuckled and shouted back along the corridor,

"_Merci_; Gambit gon' need all the luck he can get."

Woverine dropped his bag on the floor with a loud thump. Still staring after Rogue and Gambit, he asked Jubilee, "You all right, kiddo?"

"Yeah," she replied staunchly, because she always tried not to show weakness in front of Wolverine.

"Uh huh." He didn't seem convinced. "You be ok here on your own if I go and find Beast?"

"Yeah," she said again. He left without another word, before she had a chance to tell him that Beast was probably somewhere around the isolation room. Oh well. What were his heightened senses _for_, after all, other than tracking?

It took Jubilee precisely forty six seconds to decide that she did _not _like being alone in the infirmary. It wasn't the being alone that bothered her particularly. It wasn't even the fact that dusk had begun to fall outside and some of the shadows the dying sun cast were weirding her out. It was more because she couldn't stop herself assuming that something else would happen. Someone else would pop in. Some else would lose their temper. She would have to explain herself _again_. Tension wasn't doing her head _any_ favours.

She decided to go and do something even less favourable to her headache; get to the normality and cheery brightness of her room and blitz through a few video games. Chew some bubblegum. _Lots _of bubblegum. Just sort of pretend that the past few hours hadn't happened.

* * *

All opinions welcome :)

xMhax


	3. Chapter 3

A massive thank you to **ten** **A Lake Elohcin Sweetcornbee Whitecat ****Rasa** and **Mcgmockingbird** for your reviews! You've all been so complimentary, it's really great! I'm delighted you're enjoying it so far!

In this slightly shorter chapter, there's enough Rogue/Remy to choke on, and Storm's made a decision in the heat of the moment but is it the right one and what will it do to the X-Men?

Enjoy!

* * *

"Don't think I need you or anything," Rogue panted as she fell against Gambit's supporting arm for what felt like the billionth time. "Anytime I want, I jus' need to take off a glove and then _I'll_ be the one carryin' you."

"Whatever you say," Gambit replied amiably, the breath hissing out of him when she accidentally-on-purpose stood on his foot. "My room or yours?"

"Mine, bayou-bum, and if ya get any ideas, I really will put you t' sleep." She tried to glare at him but he stared at the floor ahead of them and whistled softly.

It felt like an age passed in slow treacly seconds before they staggered into her bedroom. Gambit let go of her and she slid in an undignified pile onto her bed, curled up in a ball on her right side and still clutching the sheet around herself like a barrier.

"It nutin' Gambit hasn't seen before, _chere_," Gambit murmured, sitting down heavily on the bed behind her. Anger blazed again, temporarily driving energy through her exhausted body.

"What part of 'No' do you not _understand_, 'gator bait?" she hissed, lashing out with her foot. She caught him straight across the knee, and he sailed off the bed with a pained moan.

"What you sayin' no to?" he asked, climbing back on gingerly. "Gambit was just going to say dat dere's no need to hold that sheet like it savin' your life. He'll even bring y' clothes and turn away if dat's what you want."

Yes to both; to clothes, and also to him turning away, Rogue thought tiredly. She was too worn out for that old game of "Look but Don't Touch." There was a dark muttering at the back of her brain that she really could make herself feel better just by telling him 'kiss me'. She tried to shake free of it. Called herself parasitic, a vampire.

Something was draped softly over her leg and back.

"Take a look. See if Gambit did good."

With an effort, she rolled over onto her back and tugged the clothes out from underneath her. She had been half-expecting some more of Gambit's wonky sense of humour, for him to have found the lace and leathers that she kept at the bottom of the middle drawer as a dual magnet for torture and, an torture in itself, hope. But no, he had picked a plain cotton turtleneck and blue jeans and even _clean white underwear _and was smiling at her nervously, and hell, whoever said love hurt sure wasn't joking.

"Thanks, Remy." She reached out one gloved hand and he took it and kissed it.

"Is no trouble, _chere_." He gave her hand a squeeze. "You gonna get changed now?"

"Nah. Later." She fingered the burn on her chest, using the pain to wake herself up. Gambit's gaze strayed to where her fingers could be seen shifting under the sheet and his eyes lost focus just a little. "Stop it," she scolded. Gambit grinned and got up. Oh yeah, Rogue thought with weary bitterness, not getting action, so you turn away. She smothered the feeling, knowing that she would have felt awkward if he had stayed. Couldn't win either way, and wasn't that a darn shame?

He went and sat at the tiny desk, which Professor Xaiver had installed a long time ago in the vague hope that it would encourage Rogue to do something academic once in a blue moon. He produced a pack of playing cards from whatever dimension he stored them in (she was sure his pockets and sleeves couldn't contain as many as he seemed to have on tap) and dealt them out at lightning speed. She watched his fingers move with lazy awe.

"You ever thought 'bout moving to Vegas, sugar?" she asked.

"Only if you come with," he replied smoothly. She exhaled a puff of air in what passed for a laugh.

A loud bang at the window made adrenalin shoot painfully through her veins. She forced herself to sit up, supported on one elbow.

"Relax, _chere_," Gambit said, looking back down at his cards again, "was just a bird."

"Right." Staring out of the window at the stars beginning to shine in the darkening sky made her think of Storm. Even though right now that made her feel worse than thinking about touching someone. Which was pretty bad. "What's the weather like?" she asked, forcing a casual tone. "I can't see from here."

He heaved a long, loud sigh. "Gambit not _stupid_."

"Wha-"

"For_get _'bout Storm!" He slammed the cards in his hand down on the desk on the second syllable of 'forget' and swung to face her with eyes that looked even darker than black. "The weather is _fine_. Not a cloud in de whole sky!"

"Remy-"

"Storm ain't hurt, _chere_. Sure, she's screwed herself up mentally, but hey, she can cope! She's a strong lady. But you, _chere_!" Rogue had never seen Gambit look so agitated. "If Beast hadn't bin there, you woulda _died_ today!" The cards were flicking between his hands far faster than her eye could follow. "I coulda come back and there been no Rogue left!" The cards arced over his head and landed in a perfect pile on the desk. "So scuse me, _chere_, for not bein' too concerned 'bout Storm, who's such a strong mutant that practic'ly the only person who can hurt her is herself, and bein' much more concerned 'bout _you_!"

"'Cause I'm not a strong mutant?" she shot back, feeling ridiculously hurt.

"You _know_ I didn' mean that!"

"I never asked for this, Gambit!" She rolled away from him, squeezing her eyes tightly shut against the tears. Only once he had sworn and stomped out did she let them fall, and finish in a bewildered whisper, "I never asked for ya to care."

Sleep smothered her quickly, and even when Beast bustled into the room muttering about how irresponsible she had been in leaving with no form of heart monitor attached, then set about attaching one and frowning at her burn, all she could do was blink at him twice then sink into the deeps.

* * *

This really hadn't been a great idea as far as the headache went, Jubilee thought wryly. She was wearing her polarised glasses, but was still finding the screen painfully bright and her reactions slower than usual. On the other hand, it was brilliant for distracting her, especially when she won! She needed to challenge Gambit again; he was the only worthwhile foe around.

Suddenly, the intercom built into her radio crackled. She paused the game.

"Jubilee, would you come to the war room, please?" Professor Xavier asked. She jumped to her feet and hurried to obey, wondering when the Blackbird had got back (gaming made her _completely_ lose track of time) and grumbling under her breath that she never knew what went _on_ around here!

When she arrived, slightly out of breath, she found the room packed. With Scott, Jean and the Professor returned and looking worryingly stern, the only people missing were who she expected; Storm and Rogue. She wondered how they were doing. The Professor caught her eye and smiled. She smiled back awkwardly as she positioned herself next to Gambit.

"Now that we're all here," Professor Xavier began, "I would like to bring you all fully up to date on the current situation. Beast has the medical information." He gestured towards Beast, who nodded and stepped further into the centre of the room.

"Thank you, Charles." He twiddled his clawed thumbs. "Rogue seems to be making an excellent recovery from her cardiac arrest, despite removing herself from my supervision without permission." His voice sharpened and he looked pointedly at Gambit, who shrugged carelessly and flicked a charged card a few centimetres above his head, where it exploded. The bang sounded loud in the anxious silence. Jubilee heard him mutter very softly,

"You was away lookin' after ickle Storm." She wasn't the only one who'd heard; she saw Wolverine look at him with narrowed eyes. Beast was still talking;

"She will need to rest for quite a while before being allowed to recommence participation in missions or even training, but I am in no doubt that she will make a full recovery." Some of the tension left Gambit's shoulders. "Storm suffered only minor wounds to her neck and abdomen, and barring the possibility of infection, these should cause her no problems in the foreseeable future." He paused and tapped his thumbs together once. "The claustrophobic trauma she experienced was extreme, but it too will pass in the next few days."

"So what's the problem?" Wolverine demanded. Beast hesitated again.

"The Professor has spoken to Storm and with the help of Jean and Storm's permission, looked inside her mind. He has more to say on Storm's mental state than I."

"_Mental_ state, what-" Wolverine subsided grudgingly when the Professor raised his hand. "Sorry, Professor, but you don't know what this smells like right now -"

"No, Logan, I don't. Would you like to hear the explanation for it?"

Logan fell silent.

"First of all, I trust Beast has shown Scott and Logan the tape of Rogue's retelling?" They both nodded. "Storm is very upset about today's events, to the extent where I had to change subjects to avoid a downpour - and given she was under sedation that is a high level of distress indeed. What happened today confirmed something that she has been worrying over for the past month and to a lesser degree ever since she joined the X-Men; that her claustrophobia makes her a mere liability on the team, even a danger." His lips tightened. "Neither of us expected something like this to happen while merely in training; I have already apologised to her as it was certainly our earlier desensitisation sessions that resulted in such a dramatic reaction this time."

"Sounds like they weren't much good, then," Wolverine remarked sourly.

"Continued under the same controlled conditions, Logan, they would have stood a good chance of curing her altogether," Professor Xaiver corrected with a pained expression.

"Except these weren't controlled conditions," Jean put in. The Professor shook his head.

"No, they weren't. On that note, the Danger Room is not to be used by anyone until Beast and I have worked out exactly why it malfunctioned in the way that it did."

"Could it be to do with the commands inputted?" Scott asked intently.

"Oh, you blamin' Rogue now?" Gambit flourished a spitting, glowing card threateningly.

"No-one's blaming _anyone_, Gambit," Jean said soothingly. Gambit scowled and dropped the card to the floor, not noticing when the small explosion singed his trousers.

"What's happening to Storm?" Wolverine shifted his weight as he asked the question. The Professor and Jean looked at each other and Jubilee's stomach began to creep into a cold ball. It dropped out altogether when the Professor spoke again.

"Obviously this decision may well change as she recovers her mental equilibrium and can take stock of events more constructively, but at the moment, Storm has resigned from active service as an X-Man."

Stunned silence. Jubilee felt sick.

"That mean she's leavin' us?" Wolverine's voice had dropped to a growl.

"No." The Professor closed his eyes briefly. "I did at least manage to persuade her against that."

"So what _does_ it mean then?" Wolverine sounded two steps away from breaking something.

"That depends on Storm," Jean began, her concerned gaze fixed on Wolverine. "It may just mean that she chooses to stay behind on missons, be the point of contact at the mansion - "

"What'm I, dried fish?" Jubilee mumbled. Gambit smirked.

"And what, be a damned gardener?" Wolverine snarled. "That ain't Storm. She'd go raving nuts stuck in here - "

"Better than she go nuts outside, _mon ami_."

Jubilee felt a sudden urge to duck away and hide as Wolverine swung round and looked over her shoulder at Gambit with a contorted face.

"What you saying, Cajun?" His hands were clenched into fists. Gambit held another card in his hand, but his expression wasn't angry. It was serious, more serious an expression than Jubilee had ever seen on his face before, and sad.

"I just sayin' that if right now her claustrophobia's this bad, better she not be exposed, _oui_? What if this had happened outside, where Beast don't have no defibrilators?"

"Oh, so _that's _your problem, lover-boy!" Wolverine unsheathed his claws. Gambit flipped a second card into his hand and charged them both at once.

"_Oui_, that _is _my problem. If you had any sense it'd be yours too. It not 'bout Rogue, Logan, it about the chance Storm might kill me next, or Beast, or Jubilee," Jubilee jumped as Gambit pointed at her, "or anyone who's unlucky enough to get in her way when she loses it." Wolverine opened his mouth to reply and Gambit cut him off. "Ok, so mebbe she wouldn't kill you, ok, but what you gonna do, _mon ami_, hold your claws up like damn lightning rods every time?"

Her X-Men training paid off; Jubilee ducked and rolled to safety as Wolverine let out a guttural bellow and lunged for Gambit. Gambit sprang into a wide fighting stance, cards at the ready.

Suddenly the blue glow of psychic power wrapped around the two men, and they ground to a halt. As the Professor and Jean set about defusing the situation, Jubilee felt a hand grip her shoulder reassuringly.

"You ok, Jubilee?" Cyclops asked, giving her a tight little smile. She nodded and silently looked back at the immobilised pair. The Professor left Gambit's mind first; the Cajun shook his head and turned on his heels, heading away at a jog. It took nearly a full minute before Jean's psychic aura dispersed from around Wolverine. He exchanged a look with her, then sneered at the room at large and left by the same door as Gambit.

"Well," Beast began, but then shook his head and fell silent. Jubilee chewed her lip. She was only too pleased when the Professor told them all to leave.

* * *

Running out of plot here. I have a couple of ideas, but if you have any ideas too, do let me know.

Thanks!

xMhax


	4. Chapter 4

So, yeah, hi? I'd recommend doing a brief reread ...

This is sort of an update and sort of a stopgap and sort of a reaction checker. See AN at the end.

* * *

Storm was mentally and physically exhausted, but too tangled in emotional turmoil to sleep. The sedatives Beast had given her in the uncountable elapsed time hadn't done their job properly; her body was sluggish and heavy, yes, but behind closed eyelids her mind raced in agitated circles.

Strange, how even in the privacy of her mind (as attention-deficit as it was at the moment), she was Storm. Not Ororo, her birth name, the name given to her by parents that she didn't remember but loved none the less for that. The name that had been given to the innocent little baby she had been, in hope of the women she would one day become. The name of ... just a person.

Storm. The name of a mutant. Not even a name, just a plain description of her mutation. Underneath the simple word was everything that she had lived, like a complex and lengthy book with a single printed word on the cover. Storm.

Storm the goddess and Storm the X-Man. Storm the weatherwitch, the windrider, the Morlock leader. Storm, who felt the presence of the Earth every second of every day and worked its weather to her every whim. She was even Storm to her godson, Mjnari. Again, she was even Storm to _herself_.

Storm, whose unleashed, unchecked powers (free, so free ...) could have destroyed the Savage Lands if it hadn't been for Rogue - _Rogue_ -

Storm the claustrophobic. Storm the fainter. Storm the inconvenience.

Storm the killer.

She had to adhere to her words with Charles. The very thought of what she had done made her feel nauseous. She was utterly unsafe to be a member of the X-men, and yet ...

Take Storm away. Strip Storm away from the woman. Not a goddess or witch, a leader of neither Morlocks nor X-Men. What did she have, outside of her powers and the life she had built around them? Was she Ororo still, underneath it all? Who _was_ Ororo?

She felt hot tears trickle down her cheeks and into her hair. She lay like that as more indefinite time passed, and never thought of an answer to that question.

She didn't know who Ororo was, but she knew all about Storm.

What Storm had done and could do. Always itching at the back of her mind were the all-consuming hurricane of terror, and the lack of _space_, and then Rogue saying (so casually!) "I s'pose it musta stopped my heart" without a hint of blame - and there should have been blame. Whose fault was it but hers?

Never before had she understood Rogue's desire for a cure, never before had she understood Logan's desire to run forever rather than turn around and face what lay strewn behind him ...

"Stormy? You awake?"

Remy's voice was a shock, but as her eyes flew open she realised that she could speak again. Who knew how much time had flown by on the wind while she had been lying here?

Stormy. A nickname of what was essentially a nickname. From Remy of all people, it felt unbearably distant.

"What's my name, Remy?" Her voice frightened her; it was shrill and desperate. Remy didn't reply immediately. She waited with bated breath.

"Your name's Ororo Munroe, _chere_."

She let out her breath in a sigh that had far too much of a sob in it, and felt new tears follow the tracks of those previously fallen.

"Yes," she whispered to the ceiling. "Yes, it is." Sleep was finally coming for her now, tugging her awareness gently downwards. Steeling herself, she pushed up against it and turned her head to see Remy. There was something very important she needed to ask him. His eyes met hers, and one side of his mouth drew upwards in a bitter sort of smile.

"Beast says Rogue gonna be fine. I told Rogue you gonna be fine. You two jus' don't listen much."

His tone was familiarly mocking, and she experienced the strange sensation of wanting to smile or roll her eyes or react in some acknowledging way, but the impulse not reaching her mouth.

She had expected him to blame her. To be angry, at least. Not this; the same as ever but with a comfortingly soft note to his voice. She didn't deserve this.

"I killed the one you love," she said, so softly that she wondered whether or not he had heard her. He made a strange guttural tutting sound in the back of his throat and walked to her side. She blinked at him dazedly, dislodging another few tears. He reached cautiously for her hand. When she made no move to avoid the contact, he squeezed her hand and raised it to his lips in a courteous manner most unlike his usual behaviour.

"We can talk later," he said as he stood from where he had briefly crouched. "Get t' sleep … 'Ro."

* * *

Jubilee didn't know what she was more surprised about the fact that she had really managed to persuade Gambit to play video games with her, or the fact he was losing. Badly. Like he wasn't even trying. As she saw his fingers fall slack on the controls _again_, she kicked him as hard as she could in the ankle, right on the little bony bit where the pain always made everyone except Storm and Jean swear out loud. Sure enough, Gambit's eyes snapped back into focus as he yelled a shocked expletive and grabbed his ankle with both hands.

She felt a lot like giggling right now.

"Jubilee, what you do that for?"

She managed to fight back her slightly hysterical giggles into a big grin instead. "I was trying to get you to pay attention!"

"_Oui_, well done, you did that." He pulled a face and rubbed his ankle. "Anyway, _petite_, it's too late at night for concentratin'."

"Oh, you spoilsport, it's only one o'clock in the morning!"

Gambit gave her the sort of "Now, think about that," look that she usually only got from the Professor. "Wha-at?" she protested. Ok, so she was a bit tired and hyper, so what? It still wasn't _late_!

"It's been a long day," he said, as if to himself, and returned his attention to the game. Surprised but pleased (she had so expected a lecture), Jubilee did likewise, and discovered very quickly that Gambit was paying attention now. Damn!

It looked like he was smirking, and every now and again she would turn her head quickly to try and catch him in the act, but whenever she did that all she saw was a look of utmost concentration on his serious face.

They played on until Jubilee's eyes were stinging and she couldn't stop herself screen-watching and getting confused. But that was ok, since Gambit was doing the same thing if the erratic movement of his sprite was any indication. She wondered why he hadn't gone, if he was tired, and then asked herself the much more obvious question that she had ignored so far – why was he _here_?

"Why are you not with Rogue?" Oh, _what_? That just … came out. Brain-to-mouth filter, where was it when you needed it?

The last thing she expected was him to actually answer.

"Rogue an' I, we don't see eye to eye right now." Both of them had let their controllers fall loosely onto their laps. "An' I don't want to wander 'round de place too much, might bump into Wolvie again and Xavier wouldn't like de mess dat'd make."

She chuckled in agreement.

"So I went to see Ororo and - "

"Ororo? Oh, oh, Storm, right, yeah, ok." Jubilee felt herself going bright red under the strange look Gambit was giving her. "What?" she demanded again.

"So dat was what she meant," was the cryptic response. Gambit wound the cable around his fingers and wriggled them absentmindedly.

"How was she?" Jubilee asked finally, hating the sudden wobble in her voice.

"All drugged still, but we managed to talk a bit. What d' you know, she completely blames herself." Gambit heaved a sigh. "Rogue blames Rogue and Storm blames Storm, but Rogue thinks Storm should blame Rogue and Storm thinks that Rogue should blame Storm. What a _grande_ mess."

While Jubilee was still trying to figure that out (wouldn't it be so much simpler just to say "they both blame themselves and think the other one should too"? It was a lot shorter for a start!), he stood up and stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. "It gon' be an intrestin' few days, '_tite_."

"No kidding," Jubilee muttered to his retreating back.

* * *

So. This has been sat in my files for a year now, essentially unchanged. I never updated it because it was supposed to have more to it. I didn't know -what- more, just ... more.

I'm updating it now pretty much just as a signal; my interest in this fic has been rekindled and you may actually see some more chapters. It may stay the same, or I might rewrite it completely or swap it for something else depending on the plot progression.

I hope people are interested in this, though I completely understand if you're not. Please, please do let me know via the magic button below! It was rereading the reviews that sparked off inspiration again, so think of reviewing as a potentially self-benefitting exercise. XD *bollocks*

All opinions welcomed, thank you!

xMx


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